


Hospitality

by Laylah



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Estelle comes in, looking around Rita's little cottage curiously: bed, messy kitchen, desk, bookshelves. She gravitates toward the books, of course, tilting her head as she reads titles off the spines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospitality

She _isn't_ nervous, Rita tells herself as she watches Estelle's carriage come up the road. She doesn't have any reason to be. It's been a while since they've seen each other, with all of the things that needed sorting out in the capital and all the hassle of Rita setting up a new lab, but that doesn't mean that anything has changed. So the little fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach can go away any time.

And it does, right when the Imperial soldiers stop the carriage and open the door so Estelle can step down. She looks over at Rita and beams, that bright giddy smile that looks ridiculous and wonderful, and the nervous feeling melts instantly. It's replaced by a terrible warm blush, of course, when Estelle says, "Rita!" as if seeing her is an exciting surprise, and comes running over to take her hands.

"Hi," Rita says, squeezing Estelle's hands. The guards are trying not to stare -- they'd better not stare, because she would have _no problem_ setting somebody on fire right here -- and there are a thousand things Rita would like to say but not here, not like this, so she settles for, "How was your trip?"

That earns her a long, gushing explanation, interrupted only by the round of thanks and farewells Estelle offers the soldiers; she's still recounting the trip as they walk through Capua Nor toward Rita's new lab. It was just a carriage ride, nothing like the adventures they had together. But Estelle makes it sound like it was full of marvels, all the same.

When they get to Rita's new place, Estelle says, "Oh, Rita, it's lovely!"

"It's okay, I guess," Rita says. There were hundreds of books in her old house in Aspio that she'll never get back, piles and piles of research notes -- she remembers a lot of it, and some of it isn't relevant anymore, but it's the principle of the thing. Losing all that information....

Capua Nor's kind of pretty, though, she supposes, now that it isn't raining constantly. The view of the ocean from her little hilltop cottage is nice if you like that kind of thing. She unlocks her front door and steps inside. They'll have so much to do. She's had a lot of projects to keep her busy, with the way everything has changed, but one of the things she's been trying to make time for is Estelle's --

"Rita?" Estelle says hesitantly, and when Rita looks back she's still hovering in the doorway. "You...didn't invite me in."

Rita rolls her eyes. "Come on, Estelle," she says. "That's just folklore!"

Estelle plants her hands on her hips and glares. "It's _polite_!" she says. "I'm not going to just go waltzing in without an invitation!"

"Oh for -- Estelle, look," Rita says. "You don't need an invitation. You're always welcome. Anywhere I'm living, any time. Okay?"

"Thank you, Rita," Estelle says, smiling at her like -- Rita doesn't have anything to compare it to. It makes her feel like she's done something pretty amazing, though.

Estelle comes in, looking around Rita's little cottage curiously: bed, messy kitchen, desk, bookshelves. She gravitates toward the books, of course, tilting her head as she reads titles off the spines.

Rita gives her a minute to just do that, waiting for Estelle to shake herself and look up, this guilty expression on her face as if Rita would _mind_ the way she gets distracted by books. "So, pretty long trip, huh?" Rita says to keep her from apologizing or anything. "Are you tired at all? Or, um, hungry?"

"I'm --" Estelle stops herself before she can get very far, clasping her hands together at her middle, and that's enough of an answer, really. "I'm all right. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble. Unless -- are you working on the formula?"

"I don't have anything ready right now," Rita says hastily. That's only half the truth; she could put together a batch of her most recent attempt at a blood substitute in just a few minutes. "But I wouldn't want you to have to try the formula now anyway. The -- the conditions aren't controlled, you're probably hungry from traveling, there's no way to get accurate feedback about how good it is like this." She waves the possibility away.

Estelle's hands clasp a little tighter. "I see," she says. "You're right, that wouldn't help you in your research at all." She does her little determined frown, and nods once. "All right," she says. "I'll be fine."

Rita sighs in annoyance. "You won't get _less_ hungry if you starve yourself," she points out. She studies the bookshelf over Estelle's shoulder and ignores how hot her cheeks feel. "I'm offering, you know."

For a minute, Estelle doesn't say anything. Rita strips off her left glove and starts rolling up her sleeve. "Are you sure?" Estelle asks at last.

"Of course," Rita says. She makes herself meet Estelle's eyes and not look away. "We've been through this before." Every time, actually. For a predator at the top of the food chain, Estelle is terrible at taking advantage of opportunities.

"Well," Estelle says. "It would be...impolite to refuse your hospitality."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Rita says. She comes closer, doing her best to ignore the way her heartbeat is getting louder -- looks like Estelle has noticed that, too; maybe it'll help. "Sit down," Rita tells her, pushing her back toward the bed. "I want to do this with you."

Estelle nods. "All right," she says. She sits down on the edge of the bed and opens her arms. "Let's do it, then, Rita."

"Yeah," Rita says. She climbs onto the bed with Estelle, half in her lap, straddling one of her thighs. She feels a little silly, maybe, but only for a minute. She lifts her left hand, turning it, baring the inside of her wrist. "Here."

"Thank you," Estelle murmurs, her breath cool against Rita's skin. She takes Rita's wrist in both hands, gently, and brings it to her lips. There'll be pain, in just a second, but Rita tries not to let herself tense up. It won't be bad. It's never bad.

Estelle's lips part, the tiny sharp points of her fangs against Rita's wrist -- and there's one brief moment where it stings, sharp, but Rita doesn't make a sound. Not until what comes _after_ the pain, the intoxicating rush of pleasure. It has to be chemical, a compound in Estelle's saliva that prevents her prey from struggling, an evolutionary mechanism to make it easier for her to --

Rita squirms in Estelle's lap, rocking against her thigh. Knowing where the effect comes from doesn't make it any less powerful: Rita feels _wonderful_ right now, like her nerves are on fire, like every little sensation is magnified. She grinds down against Estelle hard enough that she's probably going to wind up bruising her own pelvic bone, but right now it feels so good she doesn't care. And Estelle likes to feel her like that, too, slips an arm around her waist and holds on tight, lips and tongue still teasing hungrily at Rita's wrist. It feels so good, makes Rita want, makes her shivery and hot at the same time.

Estelle's other hand releases her wrist, and Rita keeps it right where it is, because Estelle is reaching down, pressing her hand between Rita's legs -- she still has her gloves on and Rita still has her leggings on and it doesn't even matter, when Rita's this sensitive, when the feeling of Estelle feeding from her is so -- is so --

She hits her climax riding Estelle's hand, clinging to Estelle's shoulder with her free hand, trying to stop herself from making those embarrassing little sobbing noises that mean she feels so good she can't stand it. And Estelle lets her wrist go, healing it up with little kitten licks of her tongue -- the healing property is another thing Rita always thinks she should do more research on -- before leaning back and looking up to meet Rita's eyes and smile.

"Thank you," she says. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes bright.

"Sure," Rita says. "It's not a big deal." Which isn't exactly what she means, but it's close enough, isn't it? Estelle shouldn't feel bad, is the important part.

When she tries to get up, she's dizzy, and has to clutch at Estelle's shoulders for a second until the spots in her vision fade -- and then she can see Estelle giving her that sweet, ridiculous worried face as if she's breakable. "Maybe you should lie down for a minute," Estelle says. "Just in case."

"I'm fine," Rita insists. "But I guess for a little bit, maybe." She lets Estelle steer her down onto the bed, then takes Estelle's hand and tugs. "Stay with me?"

Estelle smiles, earnest and delighted, and Rita's heart _still_ does that fluttery thing every time. "I'd love to," she says.

Rita's not about to say so out loud, but that makes two of them.


End file.
